


Suffering Patiently Endured

by plutonianshores



Series: Suffering Patiently Endured [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, Canon Era, Consent Issues, M/M, Multi, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Montparnasse comes across a certain blond revolutionary in a rather unsavory part of town, and decides to try his luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suffering Patiently Endured

**Author's Note:**

> If you're an Enjolras/Éponine shipper, this is almost definitely not the fic you're looking for, sorry!
> 
> Title from a quote by Saint Colette- "If there be a true way that leads to the Everlasting Kingdom, it is most certainly that of suffering, patiently endured." (This is almost certainly not the type of suffering she was talking about.)

The man looked comically out-of-place, golden hair and neatly-laundered waistcoat in vibrant contrast with the sooty buildings surrounding him. Although it was his air more than anything that gave him away, a thin façade of disgust covering a well of desire a mile deep. Montparnasse’s clothes may have been a far cry from typical wear in this neighborhood, but he belonged here. This man was clearly out of his element, and more than a little terrified.

Montparnasse could work with that. And upon further inspection, he knew him—this was Enjolras, the leader of the group of would-be revolutionaries Éponine ran with. How much, he wondered, would it take to break his composure?

As it turned out, not much more than a hand on his arm and a whisper of, “Hello there, handsome. Looking for a companion?”

“I would never—It is a travesty, that men are forced into such indignity just to support themselves. It’s sickening. I would rather die than support such an injustice.” But as he looked at the men in the alleys around them, his eyes filled with longing.

“Oh, but you want to.” Montparnasse trailed a hand down Enjolras’s chest, and although he shivered, he didn’t pull away. “I’m sure we could find a way to satisfy your needs that won’t go against your precious ethics.” Enjolras looked away, and Montparnasse pressed closer to him. “Such as me, for example. I won’t even charge you.”

Enjolras didn’t answer, but his full-body shudder and the way he sucked at his lip suggested he wanted very much to say yes. So Montparnasse pinned him to the wall and kissed him, loosening his cravat and starting on the buttons of his jacket. Enjolras returned the kiss with surprising fervor, for the few moments before he pulled back and shoved Montparnasse away.

“Not here,” he muttered, breathing heavily. “Please, just…not here, where everyone can see.”

A soft spot, then. Montparnasse was tempted to press his luck and see what it would take to get him to drop his trousers here in the street, but on the other hand, he didn’t particularly want to go home to an empty bed tonight.

“My rooms are nearby.” Enjolras followed him obediently, dead silent and apparently more than a bit aroused already.

He was more pliant than Montparnasse would have expected, letting him pin him to the bed without even a perfunctory struggle. As Montparnasse kissed him, Enjolras held his silence, and as Montparnasse idly dragged a hand down his chest, he wondered what it would take to make him scream. A bite at his lip earned only a soft gasp, but when Montparnasse broke the kiss to begin sucking a bruise into his throat, he was rewarded with a low moan.

“You like that, hmm?”

“Stop talking,” Enjolras muttered, tugging Montparnasse back up to kiss his mouth. For now, Montparnasse obliged, although he wanted desperately to test Enjolras’s reaction again.

They kissed, and Montparnasse slowly stripped Enjolras of his clothes and catalogued his reactions. Kisses to the neck were good, bites to the shoulder were even better, any sort of comment about his reactions made Enjolras’s face burn red but his cock grow harder.

This was the most entertaining fuck he’d had in a while—shame always added an interesting dimension to these sorts of things, and Enjolras was certainly ashamed. Montparnasse was good at these games, pushing just far enough to sting without scaring him away. Some men liked the shame, and it seemed Enjolras might be one of them. So when Montparnasse heard familiar heavy footsteps outside his door, he was more than a bit irritated.

“Hey, ‘Parnasse!” Éponine burst into his room (without knocking, of course), and froze at the sight of the man on the bed. “I know him.”

“As do I,” Montparnasse sighed. “And I intended to know him better, before you interrupted me.”

Enjolras buried his face in the pillow, apparently determined to pretend none of this was happening. Montparnasse looked at him, then Éponine, and grinned.

“You wouldn’t mind entertaining my friend, would you?” Enjolras tensed, and Montparnasse ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you, but it seems a shame to leave her out.”

Éponine frowned. “You leave me out of whatever you’re doing. I don’t want you to force me onto your lover.”

“No, it’s…it’s all right.” Enjolras smiled weakly at Éponine, although he quickly averted his eyes when she shot a quizzical glance back at him. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience, though.”

“Don’t worry about that, Éponine loves telling people what to do.” He stroked a hand down Enjolras’s chest, reminding him of exactly what he’d miss out on if he ran off now. “I’ll leave you two together for a moment, while I undress.”

As he pulled his waistcoat off, Montparnasse saw Éponine lean in to kiss Enjolras. Judging by her reaction, he didn’t give her nearly as much as he had Montparnasse. She tugged him onto her as she leaned back against the mattress, but that made the kiss more awkward if anything. Montparnasse grinned as Éponine slowly nudged Enjolras in the direction of her cunt, finally giving up on subtlety and telling him what she wanted.

“You’d like me to pleasure you, with my mouth.” Enjolras cut off her attempts to backpedal with a stormy, “I _am_ familiar with the concept, you know. I’ve just never put it into practice.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” Enjolras jumped as Montparnasse slapped his ass. “And I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as well.”

He expected to return to find that Enjolras had fled. Instead, he found him with his head buried between Éponine’s legs, although judging by her expression, he was doing a less-than-satisfactory job.

Enjolras jumped when Montparnasse laid a hand on his ass, making Éponine wince.

“Careful,” she hissed, and Enjolras mumbled an apology. “You too.” She glared at Montparnasse. “A little warning next time.”

“I can do that.” Montparnasse grinned. He laid a hand on Enjolras’s back. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers. Slowly, until you’re begging for more. Then I’ll fuck you with my cock. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Enjolras moaned, drawing a smile from Éponine for the first time that night. Montparnasse slicked his fingers, and pressed gently inside him (there’d be time enough for roughness later that night). Enjolras was eager; the way he bucked his hips at the slightest movement from Montparnasse attested to that, as did the quickness with which his hands jumped to his prick

With his free hand, Montparnasse slapped at him. “Did I say you could touch yourself?”

He obeyed quickly, his hands drifting back up to rest on Éponine’s thighs, and for that Montparnasse decided not to tell him off for squirming against the bed. It would be rather amusing if he managed to come untouched.

Éponine didn’t seem to be having nearly as much fun. She twined her fingers through Enjolras’s hair, looking at Montparnasse in exasperation. “Where’d you find him?”

“Looking for a man to take home.” When Enjolras mumbled something that sounded like a protest, Montparnasse slapped him lightly. “Don’t lie.”

“I can tell,” she mouthed at Montparnasse, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself? I thought you liked revolutionaries.”

“Not this one.” If looks could kill, Montparnasse would be dead many times over. Fortunately for him, Éponine did not yet possess the power to kill with a glance. Still, he’d better get Enjolras away from her before she decided it might be more fun to strangle him. Although she usually only used her claws on those who would scratch back, you never knew what it would take to get someone to snap—maybe bad sex would prove her breaking point.

“Up you go.” Montparnasse tugged Enjolras up by his hair, directing him towards the other end of the bed. “A valiant effort, but it seems my Éponine wasn’t pleased.”

“I’m not yours,” she grumbled, slipping a hand between her legs. Enjolras looked at her nervously, although with Montparnasse’s hands resting square on his chest, he had to crane his neck to see her.

“Don’t worry about her,” Montparnasse whispered, wiping the corner of Enjolras’s mouth with his thumb. “Soon you won’t even remember she’s there.”

Enjolras barely whimpered when Montparnasse took him. He looked positively beatific, golden hair haloed out behind his head, face wearing the calm of a saint in ecstasy.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Montparnasse thrust harder, drawing louder whimpers and then cries from the man beneath him.

“Look who’s turned out to be quite the little whore!” Enjolras turned his head away to avoid Montparnasse’s gaze, but Montparnasse gripped his chin and pulled him back around. “I want you to look at me when I fuck you, do you hear me? I want to see your face as I ruin you.”

Even like this, his face screwed up in half-pain-half-pleasure, face red with shame and arousal, Enjolras was beautiful. What would it take, Montparnasse wondered, to destroy that beauty? He was struck by a sudden urge to truly ruin him, take a knife to his perfect pale face or carve epithets into his chest that would never fade, leave some sort of mark so that whoever saw Enjolras after this would _know_ what had happened to him.

That was a bit far, even for him. Enjolras might not object to being fucked, but he would most definitely object to being carved up like a turkey. Montparnasse settled for a few particularly vicious thrusts; then, seeing Enjolras’s neck stretched out before him, an idea struck.

Montparnasse stretched his fingers around Enjolras’s throat, pressing down lightly. He moaned and arched into the pressure, biting at his lip. Montparnasse tightened his grip, grinning as Enjolras’s face went red and he began squirming and gasping for breath. Even then, he didn’t push Montparnasse away. He kept his hands locked firmly at his sides, and his cock grew harder with every ragged breath he drew.

“You can touch yourself,” Montparnasse murmured. Enjolras dragged his hands to his prick, desperately stroking himself. It took barely thirty seconds for him to spend himself, and Montparnasse cut off his airflow entirely as the orgasm struck him. When Enjolras had finished, streaks of white now covering previously pristine skin, Montparnasse let up on his stranglehold.

Enjolras, he noted with satisfaction, looked positively wrecked—face a brilliant red, still gasping for breath, laid out beneath Montparnasse like an illustration from a rather filthy sort of book. The saint knocked down from his pedestal, brought low by the sins of the flesh.

Perhaps that was a bit overdramatic, but this was a lovely sight. Enjolras moved to sit up, and Montparnasse pressed him back to the bed and began to fuck him with a vengeance.

“I’m not finished yet. Would you leave me unsatisfied?”

Although his expression drifted ever further towards displeasure, Enjolras didn’t protest, just laid back and let Montparnasse have his way with him. Enjolras flinched away from the kiss Montparnasse tried to lay on his lips as he finished inside of him. He settled for a hand on his face and a sharp-edged, “That was wonderful,” instead.

Enjolras didn’t answer, impassive as he tugged at the quilt to attempt to wipe himself clean.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.”

Still, Enjolras didn’t answer. Montparnasse shrugged (he could deny it all he liked, they’d both seen his reaction just moments ago) and stood up, noting that Éponine seemed to have run off. Ah, well, she’d be back.

“I don’t see why you’d come all the way down here when you have any number of beautiful young men you could be associating with.”

Now _that_ drew a reaction from him, a sharp, “I could _never_.”

“From my experience,” Montparnasse said, enjoying the way Enjolras tensed as he drew out the words, “there are some among them who wouldn’t mind.”

“Who?”

Oh, he was angry now. If Montparnasse had known how much this would rile him, he might have whispered a few names in his ear earlier that night. Instead, he grinned and answered, “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“You’re far from that.”

“And you’re an intelligent man; I’m sure you can find them for yourself.”

Éponine slipped back through the door moments after Enjolras left, scowling at Montparnasse. Before he could even ask what the matter was (although he was almost certain he knew), she began to shout at him.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?”

“I gave him what he wanted.”

He’d seen her furious (made her furious, often enough) so many times that it had begun to lose its bite, but the look she gave him now was something else, something that very nearly frightened him. “You degraded him.”

“Did you hear him telling me to stop? I didn’t. Besides, I sent him home with some things to think about. Not your precious Marius, don’t worry.”

That brought her back around to a more manageable sort of anger. “I told you, he doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s pretty, is all. A girl likes some pretty things in her life once in a while.”

“Am I not pretty enough for you?”

She scowled at his pout. “You’re all jagged edges. He’s soft, like a kitten.”

“Like a runt of the litter, before it’s drowned in the Seine.” He laughed. “You’ve always been too soft-hearted for your own good. Next time, knock, and you won’t have to worry about walking in on things you don’t want to see.”

She punched him in the shoulder as she left, and he was generous enough not to punch back, even after she yelled at him to “Put some clothes on, you whore!”

Maybe he’d have to try and meet this Marius Pontmercy. After all, Enjolras like as not wouldn’t be back, and he could always do with more innocents to corrupt.


End file.
